Paper making and speaking Japanese ... or not

The Hall of Awa Japanese Handmade Paper, as it is known in English, is an hour on a train from Tokushima station. It was our first train trip since arriving here, and we were pretty excited to be back on our preferred method of transport. Since it was an hour’s worth of travel to get there, and since the hands-on demonstration reportedly lasts an hour, and because the demonstrations close at 4:00, I was afraid of going too late in the day.

We managed to arrive around 1:30, so had plenty of time. We walked in, and there was no one at the desk. Either of the two desks. One labelled, “Information,” and the other clearly the cash register for the little shop (did I mention I like a little shop?)

We wandered the little shop (and I do mean little), which took all 90 seconds walking very slowly and picking up everything to examine more closely. But the tactic worked, and there was a woman at the information desk when we came out.

I walked up to her smiled and said hello.

Then we stared at each other for a bit.

Normally when I walk into a museum, they person behind the desk pulls out a brochure, tells me how much the admission fee is, and all is well and good. Protocol is key with my limited Japanese.

This woman did not follow protocol. She stared at me as if I were at a restaurant and had a choice. Did she expect me to say, “I’d rather not pay the the 300 yen entry fee, if that’s all right by you.”

After fumbling with Japanese inside my head, I managed to ask about the gallery I had seen on the internet. Actually, I asked about an “art museum,” which threw her off, but she corrected me that they have a gallery.

Whatever. I just wanted to look at paper. Of course, the gallery, once everything finally got sorted, turned out to be full of scarves and jackets, but no paper.

We paid our admission fee, also explaining that we wanted to make postcards. While she prepared the demonstration area, we wandered the small gallery full of fabric and looked down onto the open paper-making room, where the professionals create their handmade paper to sell all around the world.

I made paper once, when I was in high school at a summer camp. We used twigs and leaves and made very rustic, chunky paper. I remember thinking it was a great idea, but was not satisfied with the result.

Standing next to a television obviously meant for an explanatory video - for those who speak Japanese - I wondered if this was a mistake. Would today be a repeat of making paper in high school ... nice, but with something missing?

Near tears and frustrated, I wandered through the scarves, lamenting I couldn’t ask her - among all my other questions - what the connection is between these and paper-making. (The brochure claims the exhibits, no matter what they are, always have a connection).

Finally, the patient woman came upstairs to tell us the demonstration area was ready. We followed her through the open hall, past people stirring, sifting, flattening and ... pulling apart. Off in a room by themselves two women were preparing the plant fibre; this paper is made by hand from the earth up.

Okay, that’s pretty cool.

Luckily, a hands-on demonstration is, by its very nature, one in which language is secondary to the process. She walked us through it, and then left us alone to play.

Making the paper was easy enough. Decorating it not so much.

Laid out on a table were neon colours surely not found in the natural world. Pink and orange and blue straight out of the 1980s. We used cookie cutters to make shapes, squirt bottles and cups of coloured water, and a lot of prayers to keep the colours from running together.

Meanwhile, our caretaker flitted about us, like a helpful butterfly: taking our used tools and washing them, making approving noises when we finally got a design to look good, handing us the roller when we needed it. I wished I could ask her how long she has worked at the paper factory, how much paper they make in a day, and what her favourite part of the job is.

In the end, with my Japanese being spotty, I settled on one my most comfortable sentences, of which I know all the words: “What’s your name?”

Yoshida-San.

Thank you, Yoshida-San, for all you did for us. We did appreciate it, and I hope my very little Japanese could get that across in the end.

"One box of YUMMY Triscuits"

Back when I was young and my parents thought fuelling my desires to travel the world was harmless, they gave me a copy of Dian Fossey’s book Gorillas in the Mist (For those unfamiliar with Ms Fossey, she studied gorillas in Rwanda).

My parents now probably now realise their mistake and wish they had showered me with more Mary Englebrecht, i.e. “Bloom where you’re planted,” and less Robert Louis Stevenson, i.e. “For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake.” But since the damage has been done, I notice they’ve stopped giving me books about travelling ... : )

Back on the subject, from her remote mountain location Ms Fossey sends a list home of all the supplies she needs for her camp. I don’t remember exactly what is on it; useful things of course: probably a generator or tents or something like that. I do remember at the top of the list she emphasises, “One Box of YUMMY Triscuits.” Toward the end of the list she reiterates, “Another Box of YUMMY Triscuits.”

It is the only line from the book I can quote - nay, even more: have repeatedly quoted. While travelling is my life, and exoticness the air I breathe, nonetheless, sometimes all I want is a box of YUMMY Triscuits, those woven crackers being - alas - all but impossible to find in the far-flung corners of the world. And sometimes in the near-flung corners, as well.

In the spirit of Ms Fossey, I have crafted a list of things I miss from home while living abroad. Not to be biased, a list of things I miss while living Stateside will follow.

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Things from the U.S.A. that I miss while in Japan:

• One box of YUMMY Triscuits
• A real oven
• Diet Pepsi (not something I drink often, but every now and then in the summertime)
• English reading materials: books, magazines, local news, cereal boxes, etc.
• Deodorant (I found Japanese deodorant doesn’t work for me, but luckily I knew that and stocked up before I came this time!)
• Peanut Butter
• Rooms (as in, an apartment with more than one)
• A bed - not that we have anywhere to put one...
• Halloween Oreo Cookies (David misses these, too!)
• A clothes dryer
• Another box of YUMMY Triscuits

Foray into Japanese whisky

Finally - we have begun!

Yesterday at the grocery store, David and I finally decided on which Japanese whisky to try first. We have been a little nervous, as most people are when confronted with the array of products listed under the umbrella term of “Whisky”.

It is daunting enough to face a row of Scotch in the store, but then take that feeling and put it into another language.

Add to that the little nagging voice in the back of my head telling me that Japanese whisky isn’t real whisky, like Scotch. Yet, I know - from distillery workers in Scotland, no less - that despite the disparaging review of Suntory in Lost in Translation, distilleries in this country have won several awards for taste and quality.

As it turns out, some distilleries exactly copy the craft of making Scotch - right down to ordering all their barley from Scotland. The only thing that makes their whisky different is that pesky little law stating that in order for whisky to be called “Scotch,” it must, in fact, be made in Scotland.

Lest you think I am dismissing the subtle differences of different types of whisky - or not so subtle in the case of Laphoraig - Japanese whisky is not Scotch whisky. It differs in flavour, as an Islay differs from a Speyside.

We managed, though, on our fist pick to find a great whisky.

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Distillery: Nikka
Expression: Yoichi
Age: No age given
Price: 1400 yen ($17-18)

Verdict: I don’t go in much for all that “hints of citrus with a caramel finish” kind of talk - it’s all subjective anyway. What I will say is that I tasted a light smokiness and a little sweetness, but not very much. And it didn’t remind me of fruit when I drank it.

I would buy this again.

For more information on Yoichi whisky, see:
Nonjatta, a Japanese whisky blog
or
The Nikka distillery website

To enter the world of Japanese whisky, I found this to be a good introduction: Japanese Whisky Primer